


you've got two black eyes from loving too hard

by blackkat



Series: Tumblr Drabbles [128]
Category: Naruto
Genre: Alternate Universe - Actors, Humor, Idiots in Love, M/M, Mutual Pining
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-16
Updated: 2018-09-16
Packaged: 2019-07-12 21:42:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,181
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16003898
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/blackkat/pseuds/blackkat
Summary: Obito always gets the villain roles, but in real life he's playing the lovesick coworker. It's not exactly an improvement, up until it is.





	you've got two black eyes from loving too hard

“You won't get away with this,” Rin gasps, clutching her bloody shoulder as the wind whips past, and she takes a step back towards the edge of the cliff.

“You're forgetting that I already have. Your friends are dead, you're alone, and the kingdom is mine.” Obito smirks, following her, one long stride closer, and reaches out to grab the necklace hanging around her neck. She cries out, furious and betrayed, and grabs for his wrist, but Obito breaks the delicate chain with a jerk. The crystal spills into his hand, and with a sound of rage Rin lunges, drawing her sword, lashing out. Obito is too quick, though—he leaps over her head, twists into a flip, and the wind swirls like a dragon around him to lift him high.

Over the edge of the cliff, he turns back, raising a hand to Rin in mocking farewell. “I’ll think of you when the land itself bows before me,” he says, and rises like a bird in flight, carried by the dragon-wind.

Below him, on the edge of the cliff, Rin screams, hoarse and raw and full of furious grief, and falls to her knees, the sword tumbling from her hand—

“Cut!” Minato calls, and a moment later he’s leaping down onto the set with as much enthusiasm as any three normal people, offering Rin a hand to help pull her back to her feet. “Good job, everyone! That was brilliant, I think we got the shot!”

Obito lets out a breath of relief as one of the wire riggers starts to ease him down. _Definitely_ better than the disaster of a last take yesterday, and he’s more than willing to take the relatively short shoot today, given how his ankle hurts.

“I think you’ve been taking lessons in dramatics from Madara,” he tells Rin as he descends.

Rin laughs, picking up the sword and sheathing it carefully. “I’ll take that as a compliment,” she says, and turns as her assistant comes up to her with water. “And congratulations on not breaking another bone today.”

“Thanks,” Obito says dryly, braces himself for the landing, and—

“Easy!” a sharp voice calls, and before Obito even hits the ground there's an arm around his waist, bracing him. Obito hits with his good foot, groaning softly in relief as he finally takes his weight off the broken ankle without the tension of the rigging harness, and leans into the set manager as quick fingers unclip his harness.

“No trouble this time?” Iruka asks briskly, and Obito tries his best to ignore the heat creeping up his ears, because Iruka’s hands are under his coat, almost against his skin, and—

“Apparently not,” he says, and offer Minato a smile as the director comes up to him.

Minato laughs a little. “I think you're making the real riggers jealous,” he tells Iruka, who flushes bright red.

“I'm just _checking_ ,” Iruka protests, but he doesn’t move from under Obito's arm.

“I appreciate it,” Minato says kindly, and glances up at Obito. “How’s your ankle? You weren’t favoring it in the scene, but if you hurt yourself more—”

Obito shakes his head. “I'm fine,” he insists. “The doctor said I can keep working, I just have to wear the cast and be careful.”

Minato's mouth twists a little. “I had the riggers check the rest of the harnesses,” he says. “There shouldn’t be another faulty one, but if you want me to find a stuntman I’ll understand completely.”

“I'm _fine_ ,” Obito says again, rolling his eye. He’s always done his own stunts, and he’s not about to change that just because of an accident.

With a snort, Minato claps him on the shoulder, then steps back. “The castle scene with Kakashi is next,” he says, even though Obito knows the schedule by heart. “And I want to try and reshoot the meeting between Rin and Konan while the set is still up. Can you manage the library scene now, or should we do Rin and Konan while you rest your ankle?”

“Rin and Konan,” Obito says with relief. “Just give me an hour to ice it and take some painkillers and I’ll be good to go.”

“I’ll get the propmaster to set things back up,” Iruka adds, shifting Obito's arm over his shoulders so he can take more of his weight.

“We’re in the home stretch,” Minato says encouragingly, and then heads for Rin and Anko. Konan is already waiting, lounging in a chair off to one side with her sunglasses on and a coffee in hand, and when she sees Obito looking she waves. Obito waves back, then takes a limping step and hisses when he puts his foot down a little too hard.

“Careful,” Iruka says sharply, but he tightens his grip, hoists Obito up a little higher, and Obito swallows the ragged sound that wants to slip out at the feel of those damned _biceps_. Iruka’s the set manager, but he’s also usually one of the people hauling things around, and it _shows_. “I can't believe those idiots never even tested the harnesses before _this_ happened, it’s _gross negligence_ —”

“It’s just a broken ankle,” Obito says determinedly, ignoring the breathless sort of lightness curling effervescent through his chest. “I'm all right.”

“That’s not the _point_ ,” Iruka says tartly, but he’s gentle when he lowers Obito down into his chair.

Leaning over Obito's shoulder, Shisui whistles softly and says, “Your side looks like a _rainbow_.”

At the sound of the assistant’s voice, Iruka startles, jerking his hand from Obito's waist like he hadn’t previously realized that Obito's shirt was riding up. “Shisui!” he says.

“That’s me.” Shisui waves cheerfully, then drops a cold pack in Obito's lap. “Obito, I've got two more in the breakroom freezer, so let me know when that one melts. Hana's flight got delayed, so I was going to go help Konan if you don’t need me right now.”

“You're a godsend,” Obito breathes, pulling off the prop boot and settling the icepack against the thin cast. The chill of the ice isn't quite an instant relief, but it’s close enough to count. “Thanks, Shisui. I’ll text you if I need anything.”

Shisui gives him a cheerful salute, though his eyes are careful as he scans Obito. “Want another wrap for your side? I can—”

“You can go help Konan, since she’s up in a few minutes,” Obito interrupts, and waves Shisui off. “Get lost, stop hovering.”

With a laugh, Shisui slides away from his hand. “I’ll get one of the interns to bring you lunch,” he promises, and then is gone, jogging over to where Konan is speaking to Minato.

“Do you want some painkillers?” Iruka asks, and there's a furrow between his brows as he leans over Obito, gaze flickering to his side. Covered, now, but Obito's reluctantly willing to admit that this time Shisui isn't exaggerating; the bruises look _wild_. Of course his harness couldn’t have given over open ground, but over the prop rocks.

“I’ve got some,” Obito says, and offers him a quick smile. “Thanks, though.”

Iruka rubs the bridge of his nose sheepishly, glances over to where members of his crew have started moving set pieces, and hesitates. “You’ve got a nice smile,” he blurts. “It’s a shame you always play the villain.”

Obito's heart stutters, flutters, and he has to consciously keep his breath from catching, his cheeks from flushing. “The scars,” he says on reflex, reaching up to touch the right side of his face. Swallows, because he’s come to terms with them over the years, but it’s still a little hard to think about how he went from promising child actor to shoe-in for evil antagonist. At least he’s still acting; Minato and Kushina have helped keep him in work, even if that work isn't exactly varied. “They, uh—they don’t usually cast heroes who look like me.”

Iruka’s eyes widen, like he’s never thought of that, but that’s impossible because it’s hard not to _notice_ the scars when they take up half of Obito's _face_ —

Before Iruka can say anything, though, someone shouts, and there's a loud crack. Instantly, Iruka whips around and bolts, already shouting orders. Obito watches him go, still trying to breathe properly, and has to swallow when Iruka grabs one of the gargoyle statues for the castle set, the muscles in his arms cording visibly.

“Don’t drool,” a voice says in Obito's ear, and he jerks and slams an elbow back at Kakashi on instinct. Kakashi leans around it, because he’s an asshole like that, and props his elbows on Obito's shoulders, resting his chin on top of his head. “Maa, maa, is that any way to treat your love interest, Obito?”

Obito rolls his eye, but lets Kakashi use him as a prop. He glances back, and Kakashi is already in the outfit for the castle scene, a gossamer white thing that leaves half his chest exposed in a deep V. It’s utterly ridiculous, and Obito wants to have _words_ with whoever decided on it as Kakashi’s kidnapped-love-interest-torn-between-villain-and-hero look.

“You're only my love interest because my character has no taste,” Obito retorts.

“Be nice, our most romantic scene is coming up,” Kakashi protests mildly. “I'm going to be seducing you to the side of light and planting doubts about the dark king you serve, my handsome prince.”

Obito takes the loud, showy kiss that’s planted on his cheek with a sigh. “You’ve been spending too much time with your dogs,” he complains, wiping the wet spot away. “ _You're_ the one who should stop drooling. And get off me, asshole.”

“Are you going to ask him out?” Kakashi wants to know, but he removes himself from Obito's shoulders to fall gracefully into his chair.

Obito shoots him a nasty look. “ _No_ ,” he hisses. “We _work together_.”

The look Kakashi gives him in return is full of judgment. “Coworkers date all the time,” he counters.

Glancing away, Obito makes a dissatisfied noise, but his gaze automatically goes to where Iruka is helping Kotetsu pull a wagon into place for Rin's scene meeting Konan. He’s laughing, breathless, with strands slipping free from his ponytail to tangle in his face, and Obito doesn’t ever want to look away.

“Coworkers date, but they break up, too,” he says quietly. “And if I get into something, I _stay_. Kakashi, you know how I am.”

Kakashi’s eyes linger on him, softer than they have any right to be when he’s such a jerk. “I know,” he says lightly, like he hasn’t always been painfully aware that the scar on his face is from Obito dragging him out of their wrecked car, even after half his face was crushed. He kicks Obito lightly in the knee, and it’s a friendly touch, but he manages to hit one of the deepest bone-bruises Obito is sporting. Obito yelps before he can help himself, recoiling, and jars his foot against the arm of the chair. Pain makes his vision swim, and he groans, doubling over his throbbing leg.

“Obito!”

“ _Obito_!”

Not just Kakashi’s voice. And the hands pulling Obito up aren’t Kakashi’s either, too broad, callused in different places. They drag Obito up far enough to take his ankle in careful hands, and Obito groans but manages to peel his eyes open.

“I'm okay,” he wheezes. “Just bumped it, I'm fine.”

“I'm going to get the doctor,” Kakashi says, pushing away from Obito's shoulder with a breath that’s almost relief. “Because you're _not_ fine. And if I broke you more Minato will kill me.”

“You shouldn’t have been _roughhousing_ with him!” Iruka says after him, indignant, and then runs a light touch over Obito's cast. “Any tingling?”

Thankfully, the pain is already fading. “It was really just a bump,” Obito says. “Nothing moved, I don’t think.”

“The doctor should be the one to decide that,” Iruka says sternly, but he picks up Obito's icepack and sets it carefully on his ankle. The cast is rigid but thin enough that Obito can feel the first tendrils of cold within a few seconds, and he breathes out, uncurls himself a little, and rubs the bridge of his nose.

“Thanks,” he says, and reaches out to touch Iruka’s wrist lightly. “Sorry to interrupt your work, Iruka.”

Red climbs up Iruka’s face, and he clears his throat suddenly, high and sharp. “It’s fine!” he says loudly. “I just—you should be careful! You're the best character in this movie and I don’t want you to get hurt any more!”

Obito blinks, caught entirely by surprise, and Iruka’s mouth drops open like he just realized what he said. He flushes from hairline to collar, vivid crimson, and bolts to his feet.

“Havetogobye!” he blurts, and practically throws himself behind the greenscreen. There's a yelp, a crash, a cry, and Obito winces reflexively, but—

He’s smiling, he realizes. Can't quite catch his breath, and it feels like falling without the fear of ever hitting the ground. _Oh_ , he thinks, and then wildly, bewildered, _Maybe?_

Suddenly, the broken ankle doesn’t seem so bad after all.


End file.
